


Brendol Hux’s best birthday present

by arbitragehux



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Birthday Presents, Brendol Hux's A+ Parenting, Family Issues, M/M, Suicide, Suicide Notes, Surprises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:34:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26746687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arbitragehux/pseuds/arbitragehux
Summary: Tomorrow it’s Brendol’s birthday. Armitage gets him a present
Relationships: Armitage Hux & Brendol Hux, Armitage Hux/Brendol Hux
Kudos: 10
Collections: Brendol





	Brendol Hux’s best birthday present

Hux always hated the holiday eves, especially when he was the one being celebrated. The day prior to his 45th birthday wasn’t an exception. Tomorrow he would have to pretend that he is touched and glad to see every single officer, choose the right words of gratitude as if he was truly grateful. It's not that he doesn't like events where you can show off and have a few words and shots with influential colleagues — of course, he does — but the process of inviting mostly formal people, renting a place, organizing an event.. It was all exhausting and irritating.

Notification from Hux Jr. was the last drop to his irritation. At first he wanted to ignore the message but realized that tomorrow he wouldn’t have time for all these little unimportances. Besides, who knows, maybe Armitage has finally done something worthy of attention. He sighed heavily at that thought and looked at the screen:

“Father, I know you won’t have time for me tomorrow, although I really want to give you a birthday present. I sincerely hope you’ll like it.   
Could you please visit my quarters? It’s too heavy, I can’t bring it to yours, sorry.  
Promise, it won’t take long.”

Brendol sighed again and tiredly rubbed his eyes. “Too heavy”, huh? He must be, what, about 16 now, and still incapable of any physical activity. Besides, if there’s something *really* heavy, what the droids are for? Useless idiot. Whatever, short night walk will do good for sleep.

On entering Armitage’s quarters Brendol is stuck. His son is twisted the wrong way on the floor, gun in the mouth — in what’s left of the mouth, to be precise, — head is shot through. Blood is still pouring down the skull. Eyes half-closed and glassy — the death was instant, Brendol suggested. Did he trained for this? Dumb luck, apparently.

There’s a note on his bed, blood spots in some places, but generally readable. Brendol comes to himself, swallows, closes the door and starts reading:

“Dear Father,

I know you’ve never loved me, and I can’t blame you for that, of course: I’ve never lived up to your expectations. I really tried, every time, as hard as I could, but it was never enough. I have always been a failure and a burden and I’m tremendously sorry for all the disappointment and disgrace I’ve inflicted. 

It won’t happen anymore. I can’t return you the time, money, emotional resources you’ve vainly spent on me, but I can’t stop getting on your nerves. Please, don’t bother with funerals and don’t let me embarrass you one more time for being a father of a weak suicidal coward. Burn my body down and throw it out of the airlock. Nobody would ever question my existence.

I’m extremely grateful for everything you’ve done for me. I’m grateful I had you as my father and I’m sorry I wasn’t capable enough to handle it. I hope one day you’ll forget me completely get a proper heir you deserve.

Happy birthday, Father”

Brendol glances at Armitage’s body and breathes slowly and heavily, not letting tears to form in his eyes. Well, at least he was intelligent enough to figure out his own incorrigible lack of strength and will, and at least he was determined enough to kill himself properly. That’s better than nothing. Probably the kid had more potential, than Brendol used to think, but it didn’t matter now. 

He gets to his knees by Armitage’s head and casually runs a hand over his face to close his eyelids. He coughs and press a button on his watch:

“Cleaning droid to the second room of General Hux’s quarters. All garbage on the floor eliminated. Protocoling prohibited.”


End file.
